The Last Amazon
by Meeerf
Summary: One twisted AU starring a very dark Lise. Lemon, lime, and all kinds of citrus fruits. No relation to my other SD3 fics.
1. Une

**Disclaimer: **Square-Enix probably doesn't even WANT to think this has anything to do with the characters they own. Let's leave it that way.

**Author's Note and Warning in Case You Missed the "M" Rating: **The idea for this came from Lise's single line when she is telling her story as a second or third character, and she says, "I thought I was the only one left alive." This story involves violence, including sexual violence, murder, torture, lies, betrayal, and anything else evil I can think of. In short, it's the most effed up thing I've posted yet. Oh yeah, and I wanted the chance to write a properly erotic sex scene.

I'm dedicating this one to "weighed and measured". Happy birthmas.

* * *

The Amazon Princess poked morosely at the ashes of her campfire.

It was another night for Lise, awake, alone, in the mountains she had once been able to call home. That was... before.

Evenings upon evenings had melded together, she having no calendar, no sense of how long she had been here, how long must she be out here before it was safe to go… somewhere else. How many days had it been since she had fled the scorched inferno the ninja of Navarre had made of her castle, the seat of her kingdom?

They had descended without warning, like some demons of the night, their forces pouring into the corridors. They were badly outnumbered, and she had not choice but to flee.

"This way," her best friend Eliza had told her, hustling her through the trapdoor that led into the secret escape passages. She wished to protest, but the other Amazons would hear nothing of royalty sacrificing itself.

"You are our only hope," she was told, but even as the passage closed behind her, those words were quickly overtaken by the screams of those being murdered echoing through the castle. Then the stone slab was shut, and silence became her only companion in the torch-lit passage.

She fumbled her way forward, the dark shadows of the corners seeming almost to swallow the light, and silence wrapped itself around her, un unwelcome companion. It gave her time to ruminate on the things she had seen, her father's death, her brother's abduction, the deathly ninja pouring into the castle. A hundred scenarios presented themselves to her primed brain, but none matched the truth when she finally discovered it.

Hours, it seemed, later, she emerged onto the hills beyond, turning to see her abandoned kingdom in the distance. It stood, crowning the hills, a testament to centuries of history and achievement. And it was burning.

She sat there, morbidly entranced, wanting to leave, wanting to return, but compelled to stay where she was. If time had drawn itself out before, now it lost its meaning completely as she watched the fire taking everything she had ever known, imagined cries of pain filling her ears as if she could feel every death. The flames flickered away as the first light of morning rose from the east, leaving Lise feeling completely, incredibly alone.

Stirring the dying embers, Lise thought the Goddess must have smiled on her that day. Or cursed her, the thought immediately followed, to leave her as the sole survivor of the once-mighty nation of Rolante. What Navarre had wrought had been absolute genocide, the likes of which the world had never seen before.

Every single Amazon had been brutally butchered. She knew. She had crept back into the castle some time later after the raiders had left, having plundered the castle for all its riches. The empty corridors haunted her, silence which had once been chased away by the sounds of life. She drew on every reserve of courage she had to reenter, and to keep from running out again at what she found.

It was a full day of dragging blankets to cover the bodies of her fallen sisters. Some had been raped before their deaths; others had been maimed, bruised, and otherwise brutalized, and she flinched every time she saw a face she had known and loved. _They should be buried on the mountain, the way they deserve, _she thought to herself, but there were just too many.

Tears welled up in her eyes still at the thought; it was one of the only things she was still able to cry for. They had destroyed her kingdom for one thing, and one thing only, and that was to release the control of the wind in order to reach the Mana Stone and its power. She had confronted the two raiders who had forced her brother to release the key. "Your brother will make a great sacrifice to our Mistress," one had told her, right before they disappeared with their kidnapped victim. A small part of her still hoped for Elliott's life, but deep down, she knew he was as dead as every other person she had ever loved.

She had crept down the mountain into Palo, the kingdom's port, but with the Amazon army decimated, the villagers had no defense as they were loaded onto slave ships to be worked in Navarre's Valley of Flames. The vermin that had conquered her kingdom were so thick there she could not have saved even one person, had she tried.

She was no longer the leader of a great kingdom; she was a simple, helpless, refugee, a woman alone. If she had not known this already, she realized it through and through late one night.

Lise was skirting the edges of Palo, mourning her inability to help her people, when three drunk rangers had set upon her late one night.

They were unfazed by her spear, which the burly men casually knocked out of her hand before pushing her to the ground. She struggled and writhed as their hands tugged on her clothes, wanting to force themselves on her. She tuned out their voices as they discussed in the most vulgar terms what they would do with her, and her mind drifted into the place it always went in confrontation, her body moving almost of its own free will.

It had been their mistake to underestimate Lise, even unarmed. Before they could make good on any of their wishes, the deceptively slender young woman had quickly taught them a lesson.

Too bad they would not be around to remember it.

"You've taken my kingdom," she said to the glazed eyes now staring up at the sky as she wiped her spear clean on the corpse's coat. "You will never have me." The flesh of his opened throat glistened faintly in the moonlight between his broken nose and crushed fingers, and she left the bodies for Needlebirds to pick out their eyes.

Lise knew she must be losing it if she was talking to the dead, but she didn't care. She allowed herself the first smile in what seemed like forever. Killing the men had felt… euphoric.

It steeled her for the next step. She had been wandering aimlessly before then, but now she knew where she was going. She returned up the path to the castle, veering left at the last fork to enter the caverns that housed the Mana Stone of Wind. It glimmered crazily, angrily as she entered, the seal removed by the Navarre raiders. It did not matter, for what she had to do here.

The stone had been there long before Rolante had been anyone's dream, and despite it all, it was here still. It pulsed slightly, seeming almost to calm at her approach, and the wind whistled outside the cavern as if the Stone wanted to speak.

She responded silently, placing one hand on the stone, taking a deep breath as it accommodated to her touch. The sensations coursed through her, rushing back and forth before finally settling into some sort of equilibrium, and it was then that she spoke one word.

"Dark".

The decision was simple. She did not think she would ever be able to follow the path of light again. As soon as the word left her lips, the power surged through her with a vengeance, and she found herself for the next few days working murderous justice on any monsters unfortunate enough to get in her way. She traveled west, following the setting sun, gleefully wreaking destruction to forget the things she would rather not think about.

She had lost track of time, but realized how far she had traveled when she found herself approaching the ruins of the ancient city of light that had once overlooked the valley beyond. Only one thing remained in the city, and she was suddenly drawn to it with an insufferable need, a need that filled her mind as she crossed the paving stones into the ruins.

It wasn't long to find the Mana Stone of Light. Lise reached out for the second time, and once again she whispered to the glowing crystal, "Dark."

She didn't know if it would accept her. She didn't know if she was ready. But it did, and her body suddenly felt as if on fire, and she fell to the ground, crying out in pain. But it faded, and she realized it did not matter. Two choices only was one was permitted to make, and it was done. She strode from the city now glowing in the final sunlight of the day.

Truly, she had no direction, yet she strode determinedly into the setting sun. Green eyes reflected those last rays with all the colors of fire.


	2. Deux

Lise scurried down the rocky slope. Even as her homeland was left behind, she was still somehow finally eager to get out of the mountains in which she had lost herself for so long. Rocks skittered before her as she clambered downward, until she came to a dead halt at the sight of the figure in the distance.

She relaxed into absolute quietness, her finely honed Amazon skills not having left her despite it all. Frozen thus, she watched the man, the only human she had seen in weeks, approach.

He was a young man, about her own age. Fine features, masculine but not too hard, and silky purplosh hair pulled back; rather attractive, in fact. But that was not what interested Lise at the moment.

That tanned skin, the loose desert clothing... There was no doubt the young man was from Navarre. The country that had stolen everything from her.

Her hand tensed involuntarily on her spear, her mind flashing back to the men she had left rotting outside of Palo. She already knew she would leave this one just as dead for the simple principle of it. Patiently, she watched his approach. Navarrese were known for their strength and thieving abilities, but she had not led the most powerful Amazon army of the world without knowing _something_.

She was perched perhaps ten or twelve feet above the ground below. She waited for him to get closer, and closer, and then –

Lise suddenly vaulted off her spot, aiming to catch her prey with one clean swipe. The thief heard her and at the last second twisted away from the spear that would have plunged through his heart. Instead, Lise fell into him with a loud _thud_, and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

Lise quickly rolled off and to her feet, but the man already had whipped out a pair of twin daggers, blades as sharp as her own spearhead. He could not get near her, held back by the length of her flailing spear, but he deftly blocked and dodged her blows as she pressed her attack. Neat swipes grazed him, yet still missing flesh, as she drove him against the stone wall behind him until his back was pressed flat against it, her spear hovering now dangerously close to his throat.

Oddly, his life flashing before him did not seem to faze the man. "Hey, hey, whatever it is, I'm sure we can work something out!" he joked with a roguish grin.

Lise had no patience for jokes. "Prepare to die for what you've done to Rolante!" she shouted angrily, prodding ever so closer. The spear teased his skin, and she relished the thought of it breaking the surface, seeing his blood drip to the ground as did the blood of so many of her sisters. The only thing stopping her was an overwhelming desire to see fear crossing his face.

The young man only looked at her blankly. "Rolante?"

Rage filled her, overtaking all reason. "Yes, Rolante! The country whose citizens you murdered, whose castle you took, whose civilization you burnt to rubble!"

For someone about to die, the man seemed remarkably pensive. "So... Bigieu really did... I hoped she wouldn't really go through with it..."

A nagging remaining bit of Lise's sense of fairness caused her to pull down her spear and regard the man with puzzlement. Deprived of her chance to slit a throat, the slightly miffed young woman inquired, "You were not a part of it?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck with one hand in relief. "I've been gone for months. I was banished... well, maybe I should begin at the beginning. I'm Hawk," he said, sheathing his daggers to offer a hand in greeting.

Lise kept her right hand firmly gripping her spear, but cautiously extended her left. "I'm listening," she said.

Hawk met her hand with a firm grip, a cocky yet warm grin crossing his face. "Well... it's like this... There's a woman called Bigieu who came to Navarre a year or so ago, no one knows from where. A beautiful, and mysterious woman… but a witch in disguise. Ever since she came, things have started to change. She slept her way through the ranks, seducing anyone who could move her ahead, until finally she caught the eye of our leader Flamekhan. Soon enough, she found her way to his heart and his bed. Now that she fucks him every night, she has his ear as well. He's utterly besotted, almost bewitched by that slut…." He paused, anger clouding his features, and Lise watched as he composed himself with a few deep breaths. "Whatever hod she has over him, he jumps to do her bidding. She's something else, for sure. The people started to change, too, as she preached that we were going to take over other countries, like Navarre ever wanted anything more than to be a bunch of thieves. The rumors are that she consorts with demons and creatures of the underworld, seducing them with the same nonchalance as she did Flamekhan."

Hawk shuddered slightly, and continued. "It was my best buddy, Eagle, and I who started checking things out a little closer. And... she killed him for it." Hawk's eyes flitted away briefly with the memory. "Eagle had a sister, Jessica, a... friend... of mine. As if it wasn't enough Bigieu killed her brother, the whore put a curse on Jessica... I'm trying to go to Wendel to find out how to free her. I knew she was thinking of invading Rolante, but I barely escaped with my life as is. I think... I don't know... I didn't realize she had actually done it."

Despite herself, Lise felt compassion welling up within her. Perhaps it was the recent pain of her own losses, but her heart resonated with this man and his own struggle. And more importantly, she now knew who was the source of her own suffering. The bitch Bigieu.

And Hawk could lead Lise to her.

"I was the princess of that kingdom," she began softly, speaking the now-empty title.

Hawk started for a moment, then recovered. "The princess?" he said. "There was a rumor the princess had survived... but no one knew how, or where she might be now."

"Well, you're looking at her," Lise spat out bitterly. She stared down at the ground as intense fury filled her.

Hawk stepped closer to her and cupped her chin in his hand. She pulled back at first before letting him turn her face gently towards his, concern in distrurbingly warm brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," he told her with genuine feeling.

"Don't be," she replied brusquely, tugging her eyes away from that strangely mesemerizing gaze to look at the sky, a rock, anything to stop the bothersome thoughts that were creeping up. "It's all Bigieu's fault, and I'm going to find her and put an end to her."

"Well, that makes two of us," Hawk replied nonchalantly. "Perhaps you might welcome some company?"

Part of Lise felt as if she was making a pact with the Underworld itself. But as she nodded her assent, an odd hope filled her.


	3. Trois

Hawk was easy enough to get along with, and somehow, even with all the ugly, dirty things she wanted to feel, Lise found herself chatting with him, laughing at his jokes as if he was an old friend, as they traveled the cavernous path known as the Cave of Waterfalls, en route to the Holy City.

The scenery was something else as well. She stared in fascination at the waterfalls that gave the cave its name, her eyes following the trail of water as it poured and sputtered down the rocky slope, to eventually become part of whatever underground river drizzled its way down to the sea.

She felt like that river, in a way, descending into the darkness, no way out but to become lost in nothingness. It put her in a pensive mood, and however much she might have let down her guard over the past few days, she found the walls coming right back up again.

Hawk led the way, his eyes always on the path ahead, but she had no illusions that he was not conscious of her with every motion. She had fluctuations of wild emotion, panicked need to trust mixing with overwhelming rage. In the latter, she found herself clinging to her spear, all her willpower used to keep from driving it into Hawk's back, to create the pain, to see the lifeblood pouring out, as the skin was destroyed to let the fragile parts of the body underneath show through. Truly, she knew it would be a futile gesture that changed nothing, but nevertheless part of her craved the simple cruelty of the act and the base satisfaction it would bring.

She did not loosen her grip on her weapon until light spilled into the caverns, fixating her gaze on the cave exit outside. Oblivious, Hawk laughed and joked as easily as before, as they broke into grassy daylight once again and strolled into Wendel.

They walked side by side, through a hushed holy town that recoiled from their drawn weapons. Whispers crept to her, as eyes looked towards Hawk, the Navarrese blatantly out of place in the lakeshore region. "I hear Navarre has done terrible things," drifted the whispers to her ears, citizens sneaking glances at Hawk, sometimes openly staring. He showed only the barest hint of tension in response, thin lines around his eyes indicating his increased wariness.

As they traversed the peaceful streets, Lise realized she was no less conspicuous. No further comments reached her ears, but glances were more than enough. Not that she wasn't well aware of the incongruity of a full-armored Amazon being seen in the company of one of her conquerors.

Rumors traveled fast, it seemed.

Finally, one word drifted to her on the wind. "_Slave_," it uttered, and she suddenly braced, realizing that was what they had taken her for, spear or no. Sneaking a glance at her lightly tolerated companion, she saw a grimace across his face as well. He did not like the comment any more than she did.

Nevertheless, it bothered her; with a sinking feeling, she realized that in a sense, that was indeed what she was. She was here now only through his mercy, and her assessment of his motivations. How much could she trust those instincts?

She asked herself, once again, what she was doing with this man. He was the enemy, he would never be anything less. Or anything more. She was indeed nothing but his captive. _To do as he would_, she thought suddenly, and the thought gave her chills.

"Hark!" She was removed from her reverie by the voice of one of the temple guards. Still slightly confined by her haze of anger, she snapped back to attention and realized, with a start, that they had reached the Temple of Light.

Hawk's arm brushed hers, and to her surprise, she found herself letting him take her hand in his as they entered. Neither spoke once they crossed the threshold, both suddenly captivated by the imposing, marbled structure that was the Temple. Even with her worries itching down her spine, the peace of the Goddess's home still seeped into her bones.

Pillared hallways led in every direction, but to the two of them, the way forward seemed inexplicably obvious, an odd pull drawing them forward. They found themselves entering the center, the altar of the Goddess, the space of the Priest of Light. There, below the statue of the Goddess, the Priest was waiting for them as if in expectation, and Lise caught her breath as they approached.

The Goddess had failed her, but she suddenly felt awed nevertheless.

"Greetings, my children," the old man breathed. Lise opened her mouth to ask a question, but the Priest preempted her. "No need. I know what you seek."

"Do you?" she asked, a hint of challenge in her voice. Beside her, Hawk had frozen, deathly still, poised waiting for whatever happened next.

The Priest came around the altar then, and looked deep into her eyes. She realized, with a start, that he had no color to his eyes, just clean whiteness broken by a pupil that widened as his face drew closer to hers. He held her gaze for a long moment, then, to her relief, he turned away.

He faced the statue of the Goddess, making the sign of the tree as he knelt before Her image. Lise tried to find her own piety, but found her heart empty inside. Still, she was able to remain respectfully quiet as the minutes drew out.

He rose, and faced Hawk first. "The enemy you face, threatens the world as a whole." Hawk nodded slowly, carefully. "First, you should go to Forcena. The Magic Kingdom of Altena pursues them for its own evil ends. They suffer as your homeland has, and you may find other allies in such a place, wracked by the disruptions of Mana."

_Forcena_, Lise thought. There were two options to travel there – a long voyage by ship, or a dangerous overland trek through the Moonlight Forest, invaded by the primitive creatures known as Beastmen. She weighed her options. She was sticking with Hawk for her chance at revenge, and that was all that seemed to fill her, all other emotions left far behind. She turned slightly to him, the weighing of the options evident on his face. With a trace of humiliation, she realized he already assumed that _he_ would be making the decision, and the revelation that had hit her in town was reinforced tenfold. She was not the one in control.

Not that she had harbored any hope she would be.

"And what do you want, young woman?" the Priest asked Lise, his gentle voice breaking into her dark thoughts, the kindness almost an intrusion in her frame of mind.

She was not so rude as to ignore the Priest, but she was forced to pause for a moment. "You told me you knew," she told him, a hint of accusation in her voice.

"True," the Priest acknowledged. "But it is better if you can voice it yourself."

_What did she want, exactly?_ Could the Goddess turn back time, bring back dead? Could lost loves, shattered dreams, be resurrected in any form? What paltry favor might She grant to make up for it?

"Nothing," Lise replied emptily, voice echoing in the relatively empty nave of the temple, the echoes seeming to mock her. "Nothing at all."


	4. Quatre

He chose the overland route, suggesting stealth as the primary motivator. She cared not, following him into the forest of endless night, the light of its three moons replacing the irritating cheerfulness of the sunlight. Her expressions were hidden under that darkness, and perhaps her thoughts as well, as the hypnotic blanket of night wrapped around her, providing a sort of comfort.

It gave the indistinguishable days a sameness as well, one much like the other. Simple ennui provided her an odd sort of relief, her conversations with Hawk the only thing differentiating one minute from the next. They ate when they felt like it, slept when they felt like it, with no visual cues to tell them when.

Still, the nagging feeling of her helplessness bothered her. Hawk led the way, and she had no reason to argue, but somehow, it made her tighten up. They had some cause in common, but they were not on the same side, and as she lay awake while he slept, she wondered, and reasoned.

He seemed amiable enough, but aloof still, and there was an air of unease between the two. He was still the one leading, and it made her uncomfortable. She had to get in closer, get the upper hand somehow.

Lise looked over at Hawk, the man completely encased in a peaceful sleep she could not remember when she had last experienced. A Navarrese was the most unlikely traveling companion she could think of nowadays. She did not trust him, but one thought drove her. He could lead her to her revenge.

And that was all that mattered. She would do whatever it took.

The answer, when she thought of it, was so obvious. _He was a man, wasn't he?_ There was one sure way to get his attention.

She contemplated him with a critical eye. Not bad looking, though perhaps a touch skinnier than the men of Rolante, who had been well-built blacksmiths, builders, and craftsmen. Despite all sense, staring at his body incited an odd sort of urge within her, one she recognized, but had never indulged.

Days drew on, and the simplicity of close, extended contact worked under her skin. She went from staring at him in cold calculation, to regarding him with a certain sort of detached interest, to finding her body unaccountably responding to him. She found herself watching every move he made with feelings other than suspicion, as something itched within her to touch him, to seduce him, to make him beg. It was a pleasurable thought.

It was a warm, balmy night when she finally made her decision. She tossed in her own blankets, and turned her head to see Hawk, peacefully encased in sleep. He slept without a shirt, and the top of finely defined muscles peeked out, their clean lines infinitely tempting.

She crept over to where he slept. His eyes opened narrowly; she hadn't expected he would have failed to sense her. Nevertheless, she acted as if she hadn't noticed. "Hawk," she whispered, leaning in close to barely brush his ear with the word. She leaned over him and bent her head to kiss him firmly on the lips, and his eyes snapped wide open.

He returned the kiss with fervor, his lips seeking hers greedily, but she pulled away to kiss down his neck, her hands unbuttoning his shirt to let her lips start traveling down his chest. The texture, the taste of his skin, inflamed her, as she worked her way slowly downward, marveling at the shapely hardness of his body, cautiously judging his response.

It worked like a charm. Hawk tensed and shivered at her every touch, until finally one arm wrapped around her, the other hand gripping a handful of her hair, yanking her back upwards to kiss her roughly. She gave in as he took control, he pulling her tightly to him, rolling her over to clamber on top of her, settling neatly within her legs. For long minutes, she let herself go, he writhing his body against hers, she moving in response to his need.

She knew what was coming; she had known as soon as she had made those steps over to his sleeping form. Nevertheless, she flinched involuntarily as his hand slipped under her skirt, fumbling with the closure and finally releasing it, tossing it nonchalantly off to the side. The same hand slithered upwards, grasping her breast as his tongue tickled her ear, moving down to undo the clasps of her vest with his teeth. Gently, he slid it off her shoulders and arms, then in one savage motion, yanked off her top.

She shivered suddenly, the night air touching her skin, as she lay under him in nothing but her underclothes. Her body was neatly wrapped around his as the two grappled together.

He guided her hand to his own trousers, and she took the hint, pulling them down to expose his maleness. She knew what was there, but seeing it so close gave her a start, for a moment almost changing her mind. Both resolve and desire took over, however, and no protest surfaced as he deftly relieved her of the rest of her garments, his moves obviously those of one who had done this many times before.

She hoped she had made the right decision; it was far too late to go back.

He caught her eye, and she found herself unable to resist his deep brown gaze. It left hers for a moment, traveling down her body and back again, followed by his hands. "Beautiful," he whispered, "every inch of you…" He pressed her down with kisses. She responded, but did not say a word, as he wriggled into position above her, she feeling for the first time the full weight of a man's naked body on her.

She could feel the telltale signs from his lower body, and knew what it meant. It was time. Startling herself, she shifted towards him in request, and he grinned before responding.

Lise yelped involuntarily as he entered her, more from surprise than pain, as she suddenly felt him, this man, inside her as well as on top of her. She shivered in surprise at the vulnerable feeling.

Hawk froze up in shock. "I'm sorry, Lise, I didn't know, you didn't tell me you hadn't done this before..."

Lise almost laughed. Of all her losses, this was the smallest. "It's fine," she told him in a low voice that she could only hoped he would interpret as sexy. It seemed to work, as before he could make a big deal out of it, she grasped him firmly with her arms and her legs, and he proceeded more slowly than before. After the initial shock, she began to find the sensation pleasant, like a caress from the inside, and slowly lost herself in the movements of their bodies.

He might be an enemy, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it.


	5. Cinq

He wanted her every night after that. Moreover, it was somewhat apparent that he expected it, after that first seduction, and she found herself going along with it. She had lost herself for a moment, but revenge still burned in the back of her brain, and she wouldn't give that up for anything; she feared he would question her if she refused him.

Most of the time… she was okay with it. Despite herself, she had grown somewhat warm towards her unlikely companion. Every night, her body anticipated his first touch, waiting to respond to gentle kisses that sent shivers down her spine.

Sometimes, though… she wasn't quite so interested, but found herself playing along, playing a game that she was new to, but turned out to be surprisingly skilled at. Those nights, her enjoyment came from the simple satisfaction of reducing the man to his baser instincts.

But every once in a while, it hit her like a bolt of lightning who he was, and where he was from, and found herself suddenly overcome with loathing. Once, she abruptly tried to push him away; he thought she was just playing, and grinned as he pushed back to hold her against the ground.

She could have resisted; she was an Amazon, the pride swelling within her, and at any point she could have removed life from him with a few skilled maneuvers. Yet she surprised herself as she gave up the protest, bracing herself and gritting her teeth with impatience for him to finish. He didn't seem to notice as he released her, he sighing in release, she merely staring at the sky above, wondering what she was doing, and what would happen next.

Lise had long since lost track of how much time she had spent traversing the Beast Kingdom. She realized, frightfully, that she had little sense of direction to guide her, with no sun to mark the way, and she was essentially dependent on the thief to get her through.

Once the thought took hold of her, it would not let go.

She found herself eyeing Hawk's back, wondering if she should simply stab him and flee. Behind that thought, however, came a nagging bit of emotion, that she would miss him if he was gone. It would hurt if she killed him… but suddenly, she was even more afraid that he would abandon her.

Hawk looked down to where she was clutching his arm. She did not remember grabbing it. "Hey, Lise!" he said, in that always-jovial tone. "What's the matter?"

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "I… I don't know," she told him, for once being truthful.

He looked at her with compassion, of all things. "It's alright, Lise, we'll be out of here soon." Hawk wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close, and Lise sunk into the gesture. His left hand snaked around to grab her right, and together they walked through the forest, awkwardly joined, but neither wanting to let go.

The monotony of the trees, the touch of Hawk, his closeness, his scent… they were comforting, hypnotic. Altogether, it lulled Lise into a vague, dreamlike state.

She barely registered when something hit her over the head.

"Lise!" she heard the cry, as the world spun around her. Vaguely, she was conscious of a pack of wolves surrounding them, and Hawk whipped out his knives, his speed overtaking his opponents, but leaving him badly outnumbered nevertheless.

"Wait… I'll help…" she said, but the words came out a garbled, incoherent mass. She fumbled for her spear, but her fingers would not obey her command. Her arm flailed wildly, before control left her completely and the void took over.

----------------

Cold.

That was the first, primary sensation, before it resolved into finer distinctions. The cold stone floor below her, the cold air surrounding her, the textures and feelings different, but with that same icy sameness.

Then… warmth. A streak, across her torso. She looked down to see a slender, muscled arm around her.

Lise turned, to look into Hawk's worried face. "You've been out for a while," he told her. "I was worried."

She pulled herself to her knees, vision still slightly swimming. "Where are we?" she asked, switching straight to the point.

"The Beast Kingdom. Their prison, to be exact," Hawk told her. "They found us in the forest, and they didn't ask a lot of questions before they dumped us here."

Her eyes focused, and Lise took it all in. The four dark walls, the small, barred window…

"_Noooo_!" she shrieked, tearing herself from Hawk's hold and running to the window and the small sliver of moonlight it let through. She gripped the bars, rattling them as if she expected them to break at her command. "I can't! I can't be a prisoner! I am not slave! _I am an Amazon_!"

The words escaped her, mindless shrieks descending into almost guttural calls, her anger and fear directed towards the moonlight outside as if it could do anything. She had no idea how long she screamed, nor was she fully conscious of Hawk's arms pulling her away when she was finally too weak, too worn out to resist him.

He was lightly dressed, but he removed his own tunic to wrap her, leaving him bare-chested and, some part of her noted, shivering from the cold. Not that she was shivering any less, but it was not temperature that bothered her, as her whole body shook in frustration and pain.

Hawk pulled her to him, and Lise, weak as a baby, let him enclose her in his arms as her leaned back to lie beside her on the cold stone floor. One hand reached up to stroke her hair, his fingers entangling in the golden threads, then slowly sliding down their lengths to her waist, the sheer repetition of the gesture lulling her. Slowly, the warmth of his body crept into her, and the comfort of his presence as well.

"That's better," his voice said gently.

Lise shut her eyes, but found the energy for one word. "Why?"

"Because," the single word answered her. She did not open her eyes, letting her ears settle on his voice as he continued. "Don't worry, Lise. I'm a thief, I'll pick our way out of here soon enough. Just rest."

He murmured that over and over, like a lullaby. "Just rest," he told her, again and again, and she did.

--------------------

It was chaos that finally brought her back to full cognizance. Lise sat up with a start, to see Hawk crouched near the door of their prison, peering intently.

"What…" she began, but Hawk hurriedly put one finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

A few long strides, and he was at her side. "I've been working on the lock for hours," he whispered to her, "but then something started happening in the castle…"

Lise nodded, and they huddled together, the mysterious din permeating their hearing, growing ever louder, but not offering any clues as to what was going on.

Though any sense of time had long since left her, it seemed hours the two sat together. Hunger and thirst teased her, but she ignored them in favor of the more immediate concerns.

Abruptly, the heavy metal door to their cell slammed open, it ringing against the stone walls.

Hawk leaped to his feet even before Lise did, to see a young man, about their own age, silhouetted in the doorway. Behind him, a cadre of wolf-men were visible. He was heavily muscled, and a shock of fire-red hair stuck out wildly from his head.

"Who are you?" Lise asked warily.

"My name is Kevin," the young man told them simply. "Prince Kevin." Hawk opened his mouth to say something, but Kevin beat him to it. "There's no time to explain. The king, my father, is being overthrown. He's the one who imprisoned you, and I will let you go, if you're willing to fight for me."

"Give me my weapon," Lise replied immediately, as the adrenaline began coursing through her veins. One of the beastmen behind Kevin tossed her spear to her, and she caught it neatly, satisfaction crossing her features as her fist closed around it. She barely noted Hawk catching his dual knives with similar ease.

The Beast Prince nodded, bowing his head for a moment, until his entire body… wavered… and changed. The golden eyes of a wolf rose to peer at them, but they were still the same eyes they had seen a moment before.

"Now," Kevin said, his voice lower, a grating rasp. He stepped back, and motioned them through the door.

---------------------

The Beast Castle was a bloodbath to rival Rolante, the more so because a large part of its denizens were still alive. The injured bodies in the corner groaned in pain from broken bones and lacerated insides.

Lise found herself in the middle of it, fighting with a gleeful frenzy. Somehow, all the viciousness she had wished upon the conquerors of Rolante surfaced; and though this was a different fight, a different place, every time her razor-sharp spear blade penetrated the body of another Beastman, the animal yelp he emitted even more gratifying than the either an animal's roar or a human's scream would be.

Hawk was at her side, his knives smaller but quicker, carving their way through the castle just as easily. Bodies fell to all sides, Lise savagely stabbing each one just in case some vestige of life might be left inside them.

Lise and Hawk made their way forward, unthinking in the face of the carnage before them, until Lise glimpsed a sliver of moonlight ahead.

"Hawk!" she yelled to him, pointing. He looked to her, as his latest opponent fell to the floor snarling, and nodded.

She grabbed his wrist, and as one they ran.

-----------------------------

The brush crunched between their footsteps. They had no direction, no desire but to put as much distance between themselves and the Beast Kingdom as possible.

Finally, they crashed into a clearing, where a gold statue exuded a comforting light, somewhat like the moonlight but more so, not quite the power of the sunlight. It was something all its own.

Lise approached the statue, and tears filled her eyes as she recognized it. It was a statue of the Goddess, carved from the same mold as several that had been in the castle of Rolante.

Hawk came up behind her, placing one hand on her shoulder. "They used to say the statue looked liked me," she said, tears suddenly trickling down her cheeks. "What is it doing out here in the forest, anyway?"

"All our forest is holy," answered a voice.

They turned to see Kevin striding towards them, the fire of his hair visible now in his eyes as well. His face was an odd combination of happy and mournful.

"We have been victorious," he announced. "The Beast King… is dead. I am the new ruler. The two of you… were invaluable," he announced.

Kevin paused, and knelt before the statue. A long moment passed. "I… buried someone here," he finally spoke. "Someone who mattered to me far more than my father."

"I'm sorry," Lise answered for them both.

The new King of the Beast Kingdom rose, his face unreadable. "It doesn't matter. All you need now is to claim your suitable reward."

Lise looked at Hawk, but found him looking back at her respectfully, for once asking her to make the decision. She broke the gaze, returning to Kevin.

"I only want one thing," she announced. "Lead us to Forcena."


	6. Six

Kevin directed them through the forest quickly enough, and to the mountain pass beyond. In the space of a day, they had left the Beast Kingdom behind, and the sun rose before them once again, gloriously casting its light.

In passing, Lise noted that the sunrise came from the east, the direction that Rolante had once stood. _That was my beginning, like the sunrise_, she thought to herself. But her future, her sunset, her ending… that was yet to be determined.

Mountains gave way to gentle grasslands, and the fresh air infected Lise despite herself. She and Hawk had been traveling through it for a day or two, when they came upon a peaceful mountain lake, is surface as smooth as glass.

Lise wondered if it was something about the clean air of the mountains, so like the place she had once called home, that made her pull Hawk to her with a playfulness she had not felt in ages. They tumbled to the ground, her energy infecting him as well, and made love passionately, right there on the lake's shore.

After it was finished, they lay there in the moist grass, he leisurely snaking an arm over her. She lay there comfortably for some time, feeling their breaths settle into a rhythm together.

Finally, she wriggled out of their embrace, rising to look over the shore. She wore nothing, their clothing still laying where it had been nonchalantly tossed, and let the wind prickle her skin, working its chilling fingers through her hair, the sensation both surprising and exhilarating.

She could feel Hawk's eyes on her naked body, but she only looked forward, allowing the smallest of smiles to cross her face.

--------------

The next day found themselves crossing the entrance to Forcena. The walls were unguarded, the heavy gates of the city thrown open and bearing the sings of a battering.

It did not stop there. A hushed kingdom awaited them beyond, and the signs of destruction were everywhere. It was not the wholesale destruction of Rolante, but the mark of war was all around nevertheless, in both what was there – ruined and burnt shells of houses, vague shadows of people hiding in the wreckage – and what was not – the placid buzz of a peaceful and prosperous town. The signs of life.

Hawk seemed no less disturbed, he running his eyes over the city with a mixture of disgust and dread. "What could do this?" she asked in a whisper.

It was a rhetorical question, but Hawk shook his head nevertheless. "It almost…" he began. "It doesn't look like a regular attack. It looks like… magic tore this town apart."

Suddenly, Lise remembered what the Priest had told them. The Magic Kingdom. _Altena_. "It's already happened," she announced mournfully. Shadows resolved into people; not gone, but huddling against their domiciles. Now that she had located them, she could see dozens surrounding them, all bearing the same expression of mistrust and wariness.

Hawk did not speak, surveying the area critically. "We should try to help the survivors," she prodded gently, and without waiting for an answer, strode towards one of the sullen citizens shrinking away from their presence.

"Foreigner!" someone cried, and instantly, the circle around them disrupted into chaos.

Shadows became dirty villagers, and the mob descended on them madly. Lise had her spear out even before Hawk set his knives to whirling. Hands reached for them, and she stabbed awkwardly, aiming to defend, to hurt if necessary, but not to kill. This country had suffered enough.

"Halt!" cried a low, masculine voice. "In the name of King Richard!"

The crowd melted away from her almost instantly as an armored patrol approached, two dozen men all dressed in identical, glinting solver armor emblazoned with the crest of Forcena. The leader, a young man marked thick, long auburn locks, swept his gaze over the populace. "What is going on here? Is the law no longer obeyed?"

"But - " cried a whining voice.

"No buts," insisted the young man. "If there is a problem, it is for the Knights of Gold to attend to." His eyes swept over the duo of Lise and Hawk, both having now lowered their weapons a bit quizzically.

Lise flinched as those eyes regarded her. Piercing blue eyes, like the aqua of the lake they had discovered en route. "My pardons, my Lady," he addressed her, and she realized with sudden self consciousness that she was hardly more presentable than those other haggard people, after the time traveling. "I would request that you and your companion come with me peacefully. Times are hard, you know."

He did not look at Hawk. She nodded for the both of them. Not that they had much choice, as pairs of the other knights had silently flanked them, making any thought of escape impossible. One reached out a hand, and she reluctantly relinquished her spear.

Turning on his heel, the young men led the group back through the desolate streets of Forcena. He paid no mind to the squalid conditions surrounding him, nor the suffering people living in them.

Lise found she could not restrain herself, and spoke irately to the man escorting her on her right. "Doesn't he _see_ it?" she said, glaring at the back of the young commander of the soldiers, unable to keep the righteous anger from her voice. "Doesn't he want to help the people?"

The soldier beside her spoke firmly, but not unkindly. "You have not been here to see what Altena has wrought, my lady," he told her quietly. "We are barely holding the kingdom together at all."

Lise pondered that, as they were led into the castle.

She had expected to be tossed in jail as in the Beast Kingdom, or perhaps taken for some sort of judgment before the king. To her surprise, they were greeted by a couple of women dressed in the livery of servants, who curtsied deeply before the redheaded young man.

"Please take her to some appropriate accommodations," he told them, and they rose to gather her from the soldiers' custody. Lise turned her head to see Hawk hustled somewhere in the opposite direction, but in a second, he was gone from her view. She looked at the commander questioningly.

"We mean neither of you harm, my lady," he said, sensing her concern. "The Knights of Forcena all swear oaths of chivalry. You will be treated with utmost hospitality. But things being what they are, we cannot allow either of you to leave for the time being."

So. Still a prisoner, if a well-treated one. Lise nodded curtly.

He seemed almost… chided. "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news," he told her, "but I can only hope to make your stay as comfortable as possible. If you need anything, anything at all - " here he regarded her pointedly – "please ask for me. My name is Duran."

------------------

The rooms to which she was taken were simple and comfortable. Nothing like her royal suite in Rolante; but then again, far better than anything she had seen since.

The maids attended her, pouring a hot bath into which Lise sunk gratefully, her body releasing tension she didn't know it held. Weeks of dirt sluiced off, aided by the dutiful hands of the servants, and her hair was washed and brushed until it gleamed gold once again.

They brought her clothes, and did her hair. The dress was not the elegant, clinging style favored in Rolante, but an elaborate construction of a tight bodice and a skirt that could nearly stand up on her own. Nor was her hair allowed to remain free as a Rolantic woman would have worn it, but half was twisted and pinned into a complicated style.

It was some time before they were done, and when they were, Lise wondered if she was not constricted in a whole new way. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. The very image of a proper Forcenan lady. It was not who she was… but then again, she was hardly what she had been before, either.

"She's admiring how pretty she is," whispered one maid to the other. Lise could not break her eyes from the mirror; but that was not the reason.

It was her eyes looking at themselves that held her. The same color as always, but... A year ago, her green eyes would have been wide, filled with hope and possibilities. Now there was something else, she could not get rid of, a knowing that, like a scar, might fade but would never disappear completely. It was as if the less showed of her heart, the more showed in her eyes.

A knock came at the door, and one of the maids scurried to answer it, returning shortly. "Forgiveness, my lady," she uttered, with another of those damnable curtsies. "Sir Duran requests your audience."

Lise knew the request was a formality. She nodded impatiently, eager to get the charade over with.

She made her way to the receiving chamber of the suite, hampered by the ridiculous skirt, flopping unceremoniously into a chair. Once she was suitably arranged, Duran was brought in.

He was still wearing his armor, hours after their return to the castle, and Lise wondered idly if he even took it off to sleep. He was obviously comfortable in it, moving with barely a clank, almost as if it was part of his own self.

Duran did stop, and start slightly, at the sight of a much more composed – and cleaner – Lise awaiting his presence.

She raised one eyebrow. "You needed something, sir?" she asked acidly, drawing on all her lessons of regal protocol.

He seemed surprised at her icy formality, but retained his knightly composure quickly enough. "Merely to check if all was to your satisfaction, my lady," he told her.

"Lise," she said.

"Lise… ?" He left it hanging.

"Just Lise." She shrugged in a slightly unladylike manner. "That's my name."

"In that case… Lise…" Duran seemed bothered by the lack of a title. "I invite you to rest for a moment. We will have time to talk later." He rose, with a look at her just a trace of a second too long for propriety, and the maids departed as well, leaving her alone with her thoughts.


	7. Sept

The days in Forcena passed in utter boredom, at least as far as Lise was concerned. She was trapped in the passive, frivolous pursuits that occupied the ladies of Forcena, pointless activities like poetry and embroidery that made her want to tear her hair out in irritation. But she had no choice but to while away the days, waiting for something to change.

Most of that time was spent alone. Her contact with Hawk was limited during the daytime; she knew, underneath the polite exterior that Forcena had shown them, that she and he were still captives, and under suspicion.

Oddly, they were barely watched at night; and that was their chance to be together. Sometimes he came to her, using his Navarrese skills of stealth to skip past his guards; but most of the time she came to him. For reasons unknown, her guard was far lighter than his.

She tried to talk to him, night after night, trying to figure out how they would escape the situation and what they should do next. The Priest of Light had told her to go to Forcena, but she had little idea why.

Hawk barely listened to her concerns, wanting only to make love. Every time, nearly as soon as he saw her, his hands were on her touching, caressing, kissing, tearing off her clothes.

And she found herself unable to resist. Though at times, she hated herself for it.

Daytime always returned, however, and she was surprised to find the young commander Duran a frequent guest. She didn't quite understand why; he seemed both friend and guard. But it did break up the monotony, whatever it meant and she found herself looking forward to his visits.

He always addressed her politely, asking her the perfunctory questions that were expected. Where she was from, what she was doing, where she was going. There was no malice when he addressed her, and it made her feel ashamed when she responded to his inquiries with bald-faced lies when she could not avoid the question altogether.

It had been Hawk who had given her an alibi. A Wendelic woman, of the temple. "No one will believe Amazon any longer, in any case," he whispered to her on one of their first nights there, she laying in his arms. It was her time to forget her fear, in those stolen moments they spent with their bodies intertwined, drenched in sweat and writhing against each other.

She did not like lying to Duran. He had, oddly, become a genuine friend.

But Hawk's idea was, indeed, the most logical, and she found herself thankful for it when the question came up, in the most striking of ways.

After some days in the castle, the king finally found the time to investigate the two of them, sending a summons that barely concealed the command in it. She had readied herself with all the Forcenan mannerisms, arranging hair and clothes with the appropriate modesty, the constricting dress almost a form of armor in and of itself. It gave her the vaguest sense of protection, of insulation, as she approached the throne room with a heavy feeling of trepidation.

She was escorted by Duran, and his own mannerism was stiff and forced. "The King wishes to see you," had been all the words he had uttered when he had arrived at her door that day, not there to fill her day with casual pleasantries, but instead appearing stern and intimidating in the same full uniform in which she had met him, and with ever inch of authority that conferred. Hawk had already seen the King, he told her stiffly, as he walked by her side as if she was beneath his notice.

She was escorted into the throne room, dropping her copious skirts into a graceful curtsy before the king. The monarch was a middle-aged, but not unattractive, man with hard edges to his face that spoke of trouble getting to him.

His voice had much of the same inflection as Duran's, but without the softness that the latter often showed for Lise. "This is a strange time for young people to be traveling alone," he told her, his voice almost scolding. "In the interests of the security of Forcena, we must know more." His eyes drilled into her, and Lise shrank back as he battered her with questions. "Who are you? Where are you from? What are you doing in Forcena?"

_I'm here because the Priest of Light told me to go, _thought Lise, _and because I have nowhere else to go. _But of course, that would not do. "I am Lise, an ordinary woman of Wendel, a servant of the Temple of Light," she said, her voice quaking.

Duran's head swiveled slightly as she told the lie, he breaking his rigid posture. In her peripheral vision, her trained warrior senses could tell he was regarding her with a contemplating question in his eyes, but she kept her own gaze resolutely focused on the king of Forcena.

"The rest of my family was in Astoria… they were all killed in the attack by the beastmen. Forgive me, your Majesty," she said, hoping her voice was appropriately feminine and tremulous. "I feared the beastmen, I heard they were coming to Wendel next… The Navarrese man offered me a chance to flee. I have merely been following along with him ever since. If you can find it in your heart to offer me sanctuary in Forcena… I would be eternally grateful."

King Richard stroked his beard thoughtfully, seeming to buy her act of simpering and begging, even as Lise cringed inside, knowing she was forced to humiliate herself once again. "Very well, Lise," he addressed her, his tone blatantly that one of master to subordinate, one barely worth his notice. "No harm will come to you during your stay here, I give you my word. But I must warn you, that until certain… events… come to pass, here you will remain." Strangely, he exchanged a knowing look with Duran, one Lise's sharp eyes did not fail to notice.

"For the time being," Richard told her, "you may consider this your home." Lise wished that didn't sound so ominous.

-----------------

Duran had looked at her in perhaps a different way after that meeting with King Richard. Neither negative, or positive, merely… considering.

It bothered Lise, in a way she could not explain. She had become used to the presence of the man, but now his visits were less frequent, and forced even when they happened. To make matters worse, she found her guard tightened, and she saw Hawk less and less, he going to ever greater extremes to come to her.

She asked him on one of those nights what _he_ had said to the King, but he neatly avoided the question, and as their conversation danced around the topic for minutes on end, finally she gave up and sank into the simple physical comfort of the encounter.

It left her more and more alone, so one day, despite herself, she felt her spirits lift when Duran came to see her. His announcement followed the barest lines of protocol as always; but she hardly cared, shooing her maids away nearly as soon as he was through the door, even as they tried to arrange her clothes in Goddess-knows-what manner.

Duran did not speak at first, seeming now both awkward and weary, tired lines visible at the corners of his eyes. She wondered how many things were happening in the castle of Forcena that she knew nothing about. Lise bided her time, waiting for him to speak first.

"The King wonders still, you know," he finally began. "About you. About him. He's obviously Navarrian," Duran noted. "And you say you're Wendelic?"

"Yes," Lise replied, to the lie that now seemed so natural she almost forgot she was not. "I was born in Astoria, but when I was ten my parents sent me to take up service in the temple. They passed away not long after."

"And that's the truth." Duran's voice was flat.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she countered, realizing too late that a flash of anger had crept into her voice, breaking the fragile image she had struggled to maintain for safety. Duran's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he only stood there, and with a sliver of her disguise broken, she met him, eye to eye, they frozen like statues.

In a split second, he dove for her, grabbing her in a forceful grip that should have prevented any escape. Lise responded without thinking, twisting his arm to release herself from his hold even in her constricting garb, and slithered out only to tumble to the floor as he shoved her down, pressing her to the floor with his own body. Gasping for breath underneath his weight, she used her powerful legs to toss him off as she wriggled away, cursing the outfit that confined her, but he snatched her waist to pull her back towards him again.

Her fury exploded. "What do you want?" she cried, breaking free and struggling to her feet only to be pinned to the wall with her hands trapped in the small of her back. The elaborate updo of her hair was now a disheveled mess. "Do you want to rape me? Is that how you knights take a woman?" she shouted at him, in between heavy breaths. "Do it! See if I care!" She hopped slightly, wrapping her legs around his ankles, sending them both crashing to the floor and she breaking free, rolling away from him.

The fight had taken it out of her, and she groaned slightly as she rolled back to face her captor, her only consolation that he looked as winded as she. Despite what she thought, there was no viciousness, no desire to force or violate her in his expression. Rather, he seemed to be… weighing… her.

Finally, he spoke, looking at her intently. Duran looked at her intently. "Interesting," he noted. "If I didn't know better, I thought you would be an Amazon," he began conversationally, his eyes searching hers. Lise's eyes flinched away from that look, realizing only too late she had already given the truth away.

"But of course, that's impossible," he continued. "Besides the fact that they were all murdered, there is no way one would travel with a Navarrian."

Lise's temper was still flaring. "One sees a great many unexpected things lately," she commented acridly.

He pulled himself up onto hands and knees, and crawled over to her, settling his body next to her, one leg thrown over her presumptuously and not breaking the eye contact for a second. Neither did she; those blue eyes held her in a way that her simple stubbornness could not account for.

She gasped when she realized the arm he had wrapped around her was now traveling down her body, stopping at all the interesting curves on the way, not groping, merely teasing them at the edges.

His gentle touch caught her by surprise after the rough play only a moment before, but, even as her blood still raced from it, she found herself responding, catching her breath in a way that had nothing to do with the tight corset molding her figure. She grabbed a fistful of his auburn hair to pull his face to hers, but before she could kiss him, he tugged away, his head moving to her neck but only grazing it with his lips.

Lise had… forgotten… what else had been on her mind. She threw her arms around him, trying to pull him closer, but he hoisted himself onto one elbow, looking down on her.

He leaned over her, the warmth of his breath traveling fully into her face. Her hands were still around his neck, she now looking directly upwards at him. But she flinched, because his look was no longer gentle.

"You've been with _him_," Duran said accusingly. "He's had you, I see."

"What business is it of yours?" she demanded, dropping her arms back to the ground.

His eyes flared. "Because he already had you when I wanted you. Because I haven't been able to keep my eyes off you since I met you. When I think about him placing his hands on you…"

She met his eyes with a challenge, and he continued. "I've wanted… this…" he said, running one hand up her side. She gasped as that same hand slid down her middle again, stopping at her breasts before sliding down her skirt, then neatly sliding under and working its way up her bare legs underneath. His touch traveled up to her thighs and between, suddenly making her gasp in pleasure. Despite the ridiculous clothing, his body was very near hers, and she rubbed against him instinctively.

"What do you do for him?" he whispered. "Are you nothing but his whore, doing what he wants because you think you have no other way out?" he asked, lapsing into surprising crudeness. "What do the two of you do together?" he asked, his eyes filling with an odd rage that somehow repelled and attracted her all in one. "When you're with him at night, do you let him have his way with you, to touch you anything he wants?"

"You don't know anything about it," Lise protested angrily, right before she pulled his lips to hers. He had no hesitation in responding, as she reveled once again in the same feeling of sexual power she had first found with Hawk.

He pulled away for a second, frustrating her, and stood once again, almost absent-mindedly reaching out a hand to help her to her feet, leaving them suddenly only staring dully at one another as if nothing interesting had been happening for the past several minutes.

Lise said nothing. Duran stepped a bit closer, and pulled out one of the pins that held up her elaborate Forcenan hairdo. She flinched involuntarily as one chunk of hair flopped to her shoulders, but he continued, hair ornaments falling to the floor with a quiet clink.

"Is he really the one for you?" Duran wondered softly.

"He'll do," Lise responded curtly, turning back to look out the window to the grasslands beyond.

Duran stepped behind her to wrap his powerful arms around her. The arms that could crush her to death if that was what the man desired; but there was no

threat in this embrace. He leaned very close to her ear. "I want to give you something to think about while he's having you tonight," he breathed.

Lise was surprised to hear the answer coming out of her mouth. "Go right ahead."

That was all the answer Duran needed, and Lise found herself quite firmly led into the bedroom of her chambers. Duran kicked the door closed with barely a second glance.

As soon as the door crashed shut, however, gentle hands took over. Lise had expected him to be aggressive, leaving her with little to do but submit to his lust; but instead found herself impatient as Duran's soft kisses swept across her bodice, surprisingly dexterous fingers working the laces of the corseted bodice and layers of skirts. She turned to look at him with intrigue in her eyes.

He was… different. Different from what she had thought of him, different from what she had expected. In contrast to his rough exterior, he laid her down on the bed slowly, softly, kissing her for long moments, waiting until she was comfortable enough to respond in kind before moving down to her neckline, his lips traveling across with feathery touches. With every step, he paced himself, waiting until he was sure she was ready, and Lise barely noticed as the constricting corset was removed, only realizing it as she inhaled deeply, as if it was the first breath she had ever taken.

When it finally happened, it seemed so natural that she barely noticed, lost in the sensations that washed over her. For a brief moment, she noticed how different he was from Hawk – how different in manner, how different in appearance, even down to the part of him that was now inside of her. And how different it all made her feel, both inside and out.

She shoved the thought away roughly, and lost herself in those feelings.


	8. Huit

Lise found herself getting wily. She spent many of her nights with Hawk, enjoying his comfortingly familiar embrace without ever letting down her guard completely. Those nights in Forcena, she found some unexpected peace in the arms of her unexpected lover. She would lie against his chest as he draped an arm around her, and together they would stare out the window as the breezes played over the peaceful grasslands beyond.

But they were not together every minute, and during the day she found any opportunity she could to be with Duran.

Frankly, she couldn't quite straighten out her feelings for either, and it was spinning her head in circles. Although, after the memories that had been tormenting her brain since she fled Rolante, this was a positively welcome release. After years of putting her responsibilities ahead of her desires, it was strange that now in sorrow and exile she was able to fully indulge them, with not only one man, but two.

But eventually, those responsibilities found her once again.

------------------------

She was all smiles when Duran came to her on one particular afternoon, but that expression fell as she saw the look on his face. The look of a heavy heart.

Lise was even more concerned as he plopped himself into a chair, burying his head in his hands. She placed a hand on his back, trying to soothe him, but he only brushed it off.

"I'm sorry, Lise," he told her, still almost afraid to look at her. "But I am here in an official capacity. The King has ordered me to bring you to him without delay."

She wanted to be angry with him; but it was hardly his fault, and she pushed her petulance down. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said, smoothing her skirts. "Let's go."

He traveled at her side down the corridor with a soldier's stiffness and formality, and Lise casually entertained herself with thoughts of the way his body could also move and writhe. The fantasy flew out of her head, however, as the guards to the throne room threw open the doors, to let her in to see Richard regally seated on his throne.

She and Duran traveled up to the dais, he going to one knee before his liege, she curtsying in a way that was now almost natural. "Guards, leave us," ordered Richard, and Lise suddenly felt a not in the pit of her stomach. A monarch never sent his closest retainers away unless it was a matter of very grave importance and prime secrecy, and she couldn't figure out how she might qualify.

Nevertheless, she was obligated to remain as she was until the soldiers had all filed out of the throne room, leaving only the three of them, and Richard gave the command to rise. She stood gracefully, trying to suppress the nervous heaves of her breath, meeting Richard's eyes cautiously and deferentially.

To her surprise, he inclined his head towards her, the deference demanded, royal, to royal. "Your Majesty," he told her politely. "I am glad to have this chance to talk to you at last."

"Don't insult me with my empty title," Lise retorted sharply, realizing only after that that empty title was the only thing that let her speak to a king in such a manner.

Richard seemed a bit taken aback, but only nodded. "In that case… Lise," he said, the gap left by the lack of honorific nearly palatable. "We have much to discuss, anyway."

Lise shot a sudden, horrified look at Duran, he not meeting her eyes, a glance Richard did not fail to notice. "Do not blame my captain, Lise," he told her gently. "Duran relayed some of his… suspicions… on the day you were apprehended, but nothing since. It was indeed chivalrous and brave of him to risk the wrath of his monarch to keep the secret of a lady, but he could hardly lie to me when I put it all together."

Lise breathed a sigh of relief, and Duran lifted his eyes slowly to hers, bearing the slightest hint of embarrassment. She gave him a hint of a smile in reassurance, and tension seemed to drain from him.

"Why, then, do you even bring it up?" challenged Lise, and Richard gave a nod to the younger man.

Duran let out a deep breath, and began. "We want your help against Altena," he told her. "You saw what they had done to us when you first got here, but they are still a threat."

"We have a strong army, but they have the powers of magic," Richard continued. "Instead of a full assault, we are hoping to execute an attack of stealth against the center of their power. We hope the offensive will collapse after that."

"You want to kill the queen of Altena?" asked Lise, doubtful.

"No. Not Queen Valda," Richard replied. "Our intelligence tells us that she herself is practically under the command of a wizard named Koren. He is the real threat, and he is our target."

"Is he really so powerful?" asked Lise.

"They say the Queen of Altena married off her own daughter to him," Duran informed her. "The princess was apparently ordered to birth a heir as soon as possible, so their legacy can be perpetuated."

A suspicion grew in Lise. "Hawk's in this too, isn't he?"

"Indeed," Richard replied. "I broached the subject carefully with him, the first day he was here, knowing the skills of a Navarrese would certainly come in handy. He saw through it quickly enough, and jumped at the chance to trade his skills for asylum and political immunity within the borders of my country."

"Navarrese are hardly popular across the world right now," offered Duran.

"I need no asylum," Lise told him.

"I can offer you safety, alliance. The conditions are yours to set," returned Richard. "But I have a feeling those are not the things you will base your decision on. I think you see well enough that there is something more that led to Altena's attack against us, that led to the destruction of your own country. No true Amazon would walk away from that."

_He sees too much,_ Lise thought. The king was indeed wise. The thirst for blood and revenge that she had forgotten for a while clambered to the surface once again. _Justice. _Even if it was too late for her own people, she could not resist the chance to seek it for another.

-----------------------

Plans proceeded quickly, and the mission was scheduled for only three days later. Three days that flew by in a flurry of activity, planning, briefings, things Lise slipped back into with an instinct that had been bred into her since birth.

That last night, she did not go to Hawk.

She sighed in contentment as she lay against Duran's chest, they having worked out their mutual worry and tension with hours of vigorous, passionate lovemaking. Now… she was still worried, but it was more of an objective thing, something distantly known as she cuddled inside the blissful cocoon that was the two of them.

He ran one hand through her loose hair; it was sweaty and tangled, but he hardly cared. Their eyes met languorously, the two now barely moving except for he occasionally placing delicate kisses across her face and neck.

Neither wanted to talk about it, but Lise realized, for the first time in a long time, that she was thinking of the future.


	9. Neuf

The day dawned bright and clear, but Lise and her lover were allowed to sleep in, waking up refreshed in the late morning. They would travel during the day, then make their move during the night.

Preparations to leave were almost completed, when Hawk met her in the grand entrance of the castle. Where Lise felt refreshed, invigorated, he looked careworn and tired, an expression rarely seen on the jovial thief.

He took her hand in his, giving it a friendly squeeze. "I haven't seen much of you lately," he told her.

She had no quarrel with him; the simple fact was that she had sort of _forgotten_. "Sorry," she told him, grinning a bit sheepishly. "I've been busy."

"I suppose so," Hawk replied, and though he smiled back, it was a bit forced, and Lise felt a pang of guilt.

Duran strode up then, his timing impeccably bad, and Lise tensed. Fortunately, the Forcenan was all business. "It's time to go," he said brusquely, and she only nodded, afraid to look at Hawk.

Though it was a small party that trudged towards the suspected base of the Altenans, they were enough in number that Lise was able to lose herself in the group. Her hand tensed on her spear, and her Rolantic clothing felt at once unfamiliar yet completely right, after weeks of Forcenan dress. She wondered how many of the ordinary soldiers had pegged her as Richard had, and every time she heard a whisper running through them, she imagined they were talking about _her_.

Resolutely, she stared straight ahead, towards their purported destination, struggling to focus on that single objective and to forget everything else. Slowly but surely, all those other nagging thoughts drifted away. She was a warrior, deep down, and that single-mindedness was what had always been demanded of her; and somehow, she found that dedication once again.

Right on time, the sun was setting as they found themselves some short but strategically significant distance away from the Altenans. As dusk settled, the faint glow of campfires showed that their goal was just within their reach.

There were no fires for them, however, as they ate a cold meal, shivering slightly in the evening breezes. There was little to do but wait, as twilight gave way to first the bluish darkness of the early evening, then the moonless night stretched towards pitch blackness.

Lise had lost track of time without the moon to mark it, but she figured it was something close to midnight when Duran abruptly stood. "It's time," he announced, and nearly as one, the troops silently rose and began to quietly assemble weapons and armor, she preparing herself as well. For now, she was one of them.

------------------

The first part was Hawk's. It was his talents that led them closer to the camp without hint of detection, he moving stealthily and as silent as the night itself, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, the others carefully following his lead.

He did know his work, noted Lise. Slow and steady was the order of the day for the thief, every move quickly and thoroughly calculated with the trained eye of one who had no room for error.

Surely enough, no mistakes were made; and had it not been for the need for utter silence, Lise would have breathed a sigh of relief when the tents came close within view. That, in the fact that the hard part was yet to come.

The Altenans had perhaps become overconfident because of their magic power, and the guard was light and nonchalant. Duran took over the command, wordlessly pointing his men to their designated positions, until finally it was only he, Hawk, and Lise who were left.

They were the heart of the mission, after all.

Finding the tent of the wizard and his regal wife was not hard; it was easily three times the size of any other structure in the camp. _Rather arrogant, and most likely overconfident_, Lise made the silent assessment of their enemy. Good; it made them job that much easier on them.

The Goddess seemed truly to favor them. The lone shadow of a male figure could be seen inside the lit tent, but no voices could be heard; nor were any guards seen in the close vicinity. Apparently, their target was alone.

Hawk deftly ran one of his knives up the full length of the tent, Lise tensing as she anticipated the wizard Koren turning, amazed he would _not_ notice what they were doing. But the shadow inside did not even turn, as Hawk's knife reached the poles above, and he gave a satisfied nod to the others.

Hawk suddenly threw open the slit, and they spilled into the tent.

The wizard whirled around, now that he couldn't help but notice their presence. Lise noticed distantly that he was little older than were the three of them, a slender blond man who might have been attractive were it not for the cruel and slightly mad expression on his face.

He raised his hand to throw a spell in their direction, but he didn't stand a chance. Hawk's knives hamstrung him viciously from behind, and as he tumbled forward, before he could scream in pain, Duran's hand had clamped over his mouth and his arms had wrapped around him in a bear-like embrace. Koren struggled, but he had little strength, especially against the muscular Forcenan.

"This is yours, Lise," Duran said, positively grinning.

The smile Lise returned was smaller, and ever more vicious for that. She circled around him like a cat toying with its prey, the wizard going wide-eyed every time she feinted a stroke of the spear towards him, once towards his face, then towards his groin, as she casually wondered if she should torture him a bit first, or simply make it quick and clean so they could be on their way.

She had not killed since the Beast Kingdom, and now that dark desire burned with her once again. Buried for weeks in passion and pleasure, she now craved the almost sweeter sensation of life fading away before her eyes. It was the only thing that would assuage the hunger that the destruction of Rolante had placed within her, and it was ever more enjoyable for knowing this was someone who deserved it.

"Just get it over with, Lise," Hawk's voice teased her. Koren's eyes bulged at the casual comment, and Lise only nodded as she drove her razor-sharp spear into his torso.

Duran dropped the man in the same instant, letting him fall forward onto Lise's spear. She stumbled slightly from the weight, but kept her balance, twisting it slightly as she pulled it from his body covered in blood and tissue. She had deliberately missed the heart, but landed a strike that would be fatal nonetheless, purely so she could watch him writhing on the carpet and clutching his ruined insides instead of descending to a quick and relatively painless death. Her companions, she noted, seemed no less entranced.

It was a shrill scream that finally broke their attention, just as Koren's head lolled against the rugs of the tent for the final time.

It was a young woman, perhaps of an age with Lise, who stood framed by the tent flaps, her eyes wide at the scene of horror before her. "The princess," Hawk murmured to her, and Lise assessed her objectively. Extraordinarily beautiful, she noted distantly, delicate features framed by shiny, curling purple hair, and a slim figure surmounted by relatively large breasts and smoothly curved hips that she supposed no male could fail to appreciate. But past that, there was a trace of vacant dim-wittedness about her.

_The princess was hardly a force to be reckoned with_, Lise thought. _No wonder they married her off. _ She would be an easy target.

Apparently, Duran felt the same, and strode towards her, not even bothering to unsheathe his weapon. To Lise's surprise, she reacted near-instantaneously, and with an almost scornful wave of her hand, a mix of powerful winds and sheeting ice appeared from nowhere to slam into Duran, knocking him to the ground, he groaning from bones that were sprained if not outright broken.

Part of her wanted to run to him; but now was not the time. Hawk crept towards the princess, but to Lise's surprise, she noticed him and disposed of him with equal casualness. Flames erupted from Hawk's clothes, and he dropped to the ground, trying desperately to squelch the flames before they could reach bare skin.

Lise wisely pulled back, scrunching herself against the walls of the tent as if she could somehow escape notice, and fortunately for her, the princess was suddenly distracted by the most injured person of them all. She ran to him, and cradled his head in her hands, Koren somehow finding the energy for some final words.

"It is over, my love," Koren groaned, and Angela pressed him closer, his dark blood drizzling over and sinking into the brighter red of her dress.

The princess quivered over the body of her fallen husband. "Koren... why..." she stuttered, cries threatening to turn into blubbers.

_She is weak still, brittle underneath, controlled by emotion, as so many of the Light are. _Hawk pulled himself up to hands and knees, meeting her gaze across the fresh corpse of Koren, both nonchalantly ignoring the Princess's falling tears.

As Koren's breath disappeared, the purple-haired woman lowered her gently to the carpet, then rose to face Lise haughtily. "I am Angela, Archmage and Princess of Altena," she announced. "You have killed my husband.

"So what," was Lise's simple reply.

"Y - you..." she stuttered, at a loss for words, then suddenly lunged for the other woman.

It was almost too easy. A few quick blows of her spear's shaft and butt, and Angela crumpled on the ground, whimpering. Lise wrestled her down, but realized too late she had made a critical error in forgetting how easily Angela had disposed of the men.

She found herself flung several feet in the air, unsure _what_ spell Angela had hit her with, only knowing that it hurt and her prey was now on her feet again, gleefully looking down on Lise, the tables neatly turned from only a moment before. Whichever guards the other Forcenans had not taken care of finally noticed the commotion and appeared at the entrance to the tent, only to be waved off by Angela. "I'll handle this," she announced almost scornfully.

Lise stumbled, but somehow managed to dodge Angela's next assault, the other woman laughing all the while. She found herself imitating the sort of quick maneuvers she had seen Hawk use, mixed with her own Amazon talents, somehow successfully avoiding attack after attack but stuck on the defensive.

Angela was starting to look… frustrated, and as gratifying as that was, Lise knew she herself was being worn out. Angela launched a sudden, furious assault against the Amazon, and she braced for the inevitable impact and the pain to follow.

It was some unknown primal impulse that pulled the darkness from deep within her, hurling it back at Angela. Lise was no magician, and she blinked in surprise as Angela's spell… fizzled, then faded to near-nothingness.

"How…?" Angela gulped. "How did you do that?"

Lise knew, in a sudden moment of intense clarity, remembering the Stone at the top of Rolante, in the Ancient City of Light, and felt the power they had given her coursing through her veins. Angela seemed to recognize it as well, and stepped back in fear.

Hawk was quicker, but Lise was closer, and whipping the handle of her spear against Angela's back, the princess was brought to her knees. Lise leapt forward, and shoved her on her back, left hand holding her down, right hand neatly clasped around her weapon still.

Hawk moved, but Lise motioned him off, placing her spear neatly at Angela's throat. "Don't kill me," the princess of Altena whined and simpered. The guards looked on in uncertainty, and Lise whipped her face over to them. "Stand back, or she dies before you can reach her!" she cried; and the Altenan soldiers shrank back.

Duran stumbled over, obviously in pain, but still standing. "Is she carrying his child?"

Angela moaned at that, and Lise squeezed a few critical points on the other woman's abdomen. "No," she announced to Duran. "I would be able to tell if she was."

"Well, _Princess_," Duran said, pronouncing the title condescendingly, "consider that your reprieve from death." Angela's eyes goggled at that. "Instead, you will only be a prisoner."

The Forcenans appeared to push through the gathered Altenans, who stepped weakly back, and quickly got to the business of securing their captive. Some made crude comments on what could be done with such a lovely captive, but sharp words and threats from Duran quickly shushed them.

Lise whispered a few quick words to Duran; and he nodded. "We will escort the princess ourselves," he announced to his troops. "Secure the remaining Altenans, and proceed to Forcena." The men muttered among themselves in surprise, but quickly moved to do as ordered.

Daylight came, and it was sometime in the afternoon when the other Forcenans had cleared out, leaving only Duran, Hawk, and Lise with their frightened captive. At a signal from Duran, Hawk released the bonds from her legs, and Lise hauled her roughly to her feet.

"March," Duran ordered, and Angela did, eyes wide in terror.

It was to the west they want, opposite from the direction the other troops had gone, three of them striding forward steadily, the other struggling to keep up despite the binding of her hands behind her back. The prods of Lise's spear might have had something to do with that.

The sun was dropping as they reached their goal, one of the high ridges at the edge of Forcena, just at the edge of a cliff that dropped off for hundreds of feet below. Duran kept a firm grip on Angela as he allowed her to see the drop, and she stumbled lost her footing, now purely terrified, Duran's strong arms the only thing keeping her from going over the cliff right then and there.

Duran let Lise step forward to take his place, and Lise looked straight into the woman's eyes. There was fear, and open hate, but still a splash of defiance that Lise couldn't help but respect.

Lise stroked her spear head for a long moment, drawing out the suspense. Finally, she grabbed Angela's hands, and with one swift move of the spear, sliced neatly through the remainder of Angela's bonds.

Angela looked at her in surprise, rubbing her chafed wrists almost resentfully.

"Go," Lise ordered. "Never return to this place again." Without another word, she turned and strode back down the hill, not caring how quickly the men followed behind.


	10. Dix

It was a hero's welcome to which they returned to Forcena.

At least, for Duran, it was. For Lise and Hawk, they were content to stay quietly in the background.

They were captives no more, of course; they were guests, free to move around as they wished. Only problem was, neither really had any idea where they want to go, and they found themselves in a sort of limbo, whiling away the days with little thought of either past or future.

Lise found herself happier than she had been in some time. And that bothered her. She felt as if she was betraying her past, betraying the country that was still hers in her heart.

The Priest of Light had told Hawk to go to Forcena for allies, that something was threatening the world from without. She didn't know what that might be; nor did she particularly care. Rolante would have stepped up to a danger facing the world; but she was not Rolante, she admitted reluctantly. She was only one woman.

She lounged in her chambers, clad only in her shift, having shed the Forcenan clothing that she was still obliged to wear to avoid notice from the population in general. She was sitting on the windowsill, rubbing one leg against the other, enjoying the sensation of bare skin against itself as she stared out the window to the countryside beyond, longing to be out there once again. Somewhere out there, she could find what she really wanted.

If she could only figure out what that was.

A knock on her door startled her out of her reverie. "Lise?" came Hawk's voice. "Are you in there?"

"Come in," she called back. The maids were gone for the day, and she didn't have to bear their frivolous rituals.

Hawk snuck in quietly, closing the door behind him without a sound, even here his instincts impossible to shake. His eyes locked for a moment on her, being in the state of undress that she was, but for once it didn't seem the first thing on his mind.

Now that it was only the two of them, he paced the room in agitation, her eyes following him from her seat. "I've been thinking," he said. "That danger to the rest of the world the Priest was talking about – well, it's like we found out a few more things here, and I've been trying to put it all together. I think Bigieu's a part of it as well. I need to find out more."

Lise felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. "You're going back to Navarre." He only nodded. "I suppose that makes sense," she said, feeling suddenly unaccountably empty inside.

He swooped over, kneeling by her seat, crossing his arms in her lap and resting his head on them, looking up at her almost plaintively. She reached a hand out to stroke his hair affectionately.

"Lise," he began, "won't you come with me?"

She knew what she was going to say even before the words came out of her mouth. Suddenly, she had remembered what it was she was trying to do, and why, when she first met the man; and realized some things had not changed. Out there, somewhere, was the object of her hate, and her chance for revenge. She owed her country nothing less.

"Yes," she told him, and he smiled, suddenly throwing his arms around her waist to pull them both to the floor, she tumbling on top of him with a thud.

Laughing, he tried to sit up, but she straddled him quite firmly, and shoved him back down to the floor beneath.

--------------------------

Lise found her drive, her energy, renewed after that. Duran noticed the change in her, but when he told her he was pleased to see it, she brushed it off like it was nothing, feeling guilty for not telling him the truth.

It wasn't that there was any particular reason they had to make their plans in secret; and had they only asked, Richard would have certainly offered any aid they requested. No, it was simply the renewed bond they shared, the bond of common cause, something so close and so personal to them both that it did not feel right to involve others in it.

Still, the time came when their departure was imminent, and there was one person, at least, she could not fail to tell. Even so, she waited until the last chance they had.

It was an early morning, the sun not yet up, the sky still with the grey of faded night that had not yet become the morning's blue. They met together with their meager belongings in the grand entrance to the castle, a couple of servants eyeing them curiously, but knowing not to question their betters. Lise, for her part, was relieved to have left her foreign wardrobe upstairs, where it belonged, feeling practically naked in the short attire of the Amazons once again.

"Ready?" he asked her simply.

"There's one thing I have left to do," she replied awkwardly. He did not ask what; but the expression that clouded his face showed he knew well enough. Still, there was nothing else for him to do but nod, and wait.

She knew where she was going well enough, following the now-familiar passages of the castle. Every step seemed a difficult journey, but when the door appeared before her, it still seemed to her as if she had reached it too soon. She knocked once, then, without waiting for an answer, turned the knob and entered.

The room's occupant was awake. That did not surprise her; Duran had always been an early riser. But what was strange was that he stood there almost as if expecting her.

Lise took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you."

"You're leaving." It was not a question.

She nodded awkwardly, and he took two large strides forward to grab her forcefully, kissing her so hard she could barely catch a breath. It was a long time before he let her go, and when he did, he looked at her with heartbreaking disappointment and hurt across his face. "I have to go," she mumbled, turning away so she did not have to see his expression any longer.

He caught her arm before she could walk away, and though she tried, she could not squirm out of his grip. "Don't go," Duran begged her. "Stay here. We could marry. I could give you a good life here, you could forget the past and make a future here."

"Could I?" Lise wheeled on him with a vehemence she had not expected. "And forget everything, everyone who has died, forget the parts of me which have died and those which still live? I may not have a kingdom, but I am still a princess, and I won't rest until I find where I am supposed to be Queen."

"But in the meantime?" Duran asked. "Lise, you've told me how much you've lost, but you won't let anyone give you anything to fill in the empty space."

"I can't let it be filled," she replied. "Not now. Not yet."

"Lise… I love you..." he said, and she felt herself go weak.

She let his strong arms enfold her gently, giving herself only that split second to succumb to vulnerability before she forced herself to be strong once again. "I love you too, Duran," she began, "but... it's not enough."

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look first at now-pursed lips, then up into wide baby blue eyes. She saw he meant the truth, but that he _knew_ the truth as well. He was going to lose her.

"Just one last thing," she murmured into his chest.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Don't say goodbye when I turn to go. Don't ever say goodbye," she said with heat. "I've said too many goodbyes already." She held those eyes for one long, final moment, where everything and nothing seemed to pass between them, then suddenly broke away before she could second-guess herself.

Lise forced herself to walk down the hallway with the gradual, delicate pace the ladies of Forcena cultivated. He honored her wish; Duran did not say goodbye, nor even call her name. It didn't matter. She could feel him drifting further and further away nevertheless.

-----------------------

Lise rejoined Hawk wordlessly, and together they headed out of the gates of first the castle, then the town, falling as one into a marching stride as they headed determinedly for their next destination.

He tried to reach for her hand in a friendly gesture; she tugged it away to run it through golden hair that felt haggard and unkempt. Or perhaps that was the way she felt herself. If Hawk noticed anything out of the ordinary, he did not say; but she doubted he had missed her frame of mind. He had always caught on to her fluctuating emotions the way few men would.

They walked all that day, towards Byzel, in relative silence, though still moving almost as one when the occasional monster appeared to cross their path. Night fell, and they stumbled into the port city, and Lise's head was on no straighter that it had been in the morning.

That night, Lise lay wide awake in Hawk's arms in the Byzel inn, he stroking her hair softly in that way that made her tingle, feathery kisses teasing her cheek down her neck. _A princess_, she thought. That was what she had told Duran she was; but was there really anything of the Amazon princess left? She would always be a princess without a kingdom, and a woman without a man. She felt utterly alone, the more so when Hawk gave up on her to roll away into slumber, leaving her staring into empty, silent air until nightmares replaced the waking thoughts.


	11. Onze

She cried on and off for the next few days, wondering if she could actually be foolish enough to cry over a man. But the return of tears that she thought she had lost was such a welcome relief that she indulged herself, over and over, simply for the sensation it provided.

Eventually, the memory of Duran began to fade, growing further distant just as the man; and she realized the truth of it. She was crying not for him, not for her kingdom or her people, but she was finally, well and truly crying for herself. For everything she would never be, and everything she didn't know she wanted; for a future she was scared to imagine or hope for.

They had entered the Desert of Scorching Heat, skirting at the northern edge, just at the base of the mountains where cool breezes trickled down from the heights to provide some sense of coolness to the arid, sweltering air. Hawk's eyes were focused firmly ahead, but Lise found herself gazing north despite herself. The Sand Fortress of Navarre was directly south of Rolante, she recalled; a relatively short distance as the crow flew. So every step they took closer to his home, was a step closer to hers as well.

"We're so close..." Lise pondered out loud one day. "I don't know if I could ever go back to the castle, but somewhere in those mountains, there is a place called home. We've come full circle in more ways than one. We could be there together, Hawk."

"I can't let the people I care for suffer. I have to try, however I can," Hawk reminded her. "I can't let Bigieu go so easily."

Lise wanted her revenge still; but now she craved peace as well, and her heart hurt that the man beside her might not want that as well. She was scared to force him to choose between his people and herself; she was terrified of losing him, of finding herself alone once again.

She didn't have the courage to face that possibility. But slowly, she began to find it.

The mountains called to her on the wind, and every night, she pushed the idea a little more strongly, nagged just a little harder, and Hawk impassively refused to budge. As the days ticked by, they grew closer and closer to their destination, and Lise's inner turmoil mounted.

Finally, one night, she knew she was reaching a breaking point. The mountains curved south here, following down to the Fortress; and continuing the same direction they were going would lead them to the path to climb the mountains. They were just a short distance away; the next morning would bring them to Navarre. It was now or never, and she had to give it one last push.

Neither found themselves able to sleep that night; instead, both chose to wait outside instead. "Let it go, Hawk," she told the man staring murderously to the south, his eyes burning to rival the fire of their camp. "There is nothing to be found there for either of us. Let's move on, make a future somewhere else."

He turned to her, his expression now lacking any sort of warmth or affection. "Maybe not for you," he said snappishly, "but there's still things left that _I _care about."

Lise's mouth practically dropped open at the selfish cynicism that dripped from Hawk's words, so totally unlike the man that she had gotten to know. Suddenly, pride filled her, pride in herself and who she was, and she straightened imperiously. "Well, it's what I want to do," she told Hawk stubbornly. "Maybe I'll go without you."

She expected encouragement, or perhaps him begging her to stay. but that was not what she got. He paused in surprise, and looked at her… strangely. "I can't let you do that, Lise," he said in a strangled voice.

She looked at him with incredulity. "What did you say?"

"I can't let you do that." Was it her imagination, or was there a sudden quiver of fear in Hawk's voice? "You said you would come with me to stop Bigieu."

"Well, maybe I changed my mind," Lise replied petulantly. "Maybe I'm not sure anymore."

"Is that the way it is, Lise?" Hawk seemed to be growing angry. "After all we've been through together?"

"It is," Lise affirmed, holding her head up high. The two lovers met, eye to eye, lost alone together in the deserts of Navarre.

Without warning, Hawk hurled himself at her, knocking the wind out of her as they crashed backwards onto the night-chilled sand, Lise wincing as her right side smashed against the edges of their traveling trunk bed on the way down. She pulled her legs to her chest inside the tangle of bodies they had become, and a forceful push sent the man reeling backwards.

She jumped to her feet, but he recovered quickly, though, ducking and twisting to grab her right leg and pull it out from under her, her arms flailing as she tumbled to the ground once again. "What are you doing?!" she shrieked at the man who had become her closest friend, as she pointed a kick at his stomach that he neatly dodged.

"Lise, Lise, I'm sorry, I have no choice," he cried at her as he neatly grabbed her around the waist from behind. He had the advantage, she realized. His reflexes were lightning quick, ambidextrous hands moving with neat precision, and the only reason she had ever stood a chance against him had been her spear, and his unfamiliarity with her fighting style. Now her spear was yards away, and he knew her techniques like the back of his hand.

But she would be DAMNED before she would give up. A lurch forward made him lose his balance enough that she wriggled free, but not before he caught her tunic in a fistful of fabric. He yanked on his flimsy hold to pull her to face him, and she looked at the friend who was now an enemy.

She felt fear creeping into face even as she tried to hide it, and as she stared at him in confusion, she noticed tears in his own eyes. "Lise, I love you so much, I'm so sorry," Hawk whimpered, letting his grip loosen enough for Lise to wrench free of his grasp. She knew she should grab her spear and run, but only stood there, stunned, trying to figure out what had just gone wrong.

He wavered unsteadily like he was drunk. "Don't you love me too?"

Lise only looked, pensively, for a long moment, overwhelming emotions warring within her for the one who had been the closest to her for so long. "I do, you know I do..." she whimpered, her voice sounding pathetic even to herself.

He stepped close to her, his right hand on her shoulder with that soft touch she knew well; the touch was meant to soothe, but she found herself involuntarily tensing. Hawk leaned in to whisper softly to her, as he had a hundred nights before.

"I love you, Lise," he told her, "but I love Jessica more."

As he finished the sentence, his left fist flew forward to punch her in the face. Lise staggered backwards, only to hit the ground... no, not the ground, the rock wall behind them, she realized, even as her knees shaking beneath her threatened to drop her to the ground. As the sky spun around her, a hand - hers, she realized distantly - reached up to probe her face. Nothing broken, she knew, as the hand probed the nasal bones, but blood leaked out of her nose like a drizzly faucet nevertheless.

A plaintive voice spoke up, the voice of a Lise long ago, a Lise that did not truly know how cruel humans could be. "You hurt me," the voice wailed. "You said you loved me, and you hurt me."

"It was the only way," said another voice, one she thought she knew - Hawk, her mind said, but Hawk would not say these things, so that couldn't be right. "It was never Jessica she wanted, it was _you_," said the voice, the voice that was no more Hawk's than were the arms that were now pinning her to the rock with all their strength. "She told me if I brought you to her, Jessica would be free." Instinctively, she grasped for her spear, but realized even as her fist clenched that it was nowhere near. "It was never even about the Amazons, not even about the Stone of Wind, not even about your father or brother. It was always you, because she _saw_, saw that you could be the one to stop her. The Goddess wants you, and Bigieu wants you more." The arms grabbed her wrists to pin her hands behind her back, and with a sharp shove, pushed her to her knees, her forehead barely above the ground and he behind and above her. His arms held hers firmly, his legs weighed hers down, and as strong as she was, with every wiggle she made, he shifted to pinion her back in place.

"It won't hurt, Lise," the man who might have been Hawk told her. Lise's face was pressed right side down against the blanket they had laid out by the fire, its fabric soft against her cheek - the same fabric, she realized, under which the night before they had made slow, teasing love. "She doesn't need you to hurt, she just needs you _gone_. I'll ask her to do it quickly, or maybe she'll let me do it myself. It'll be better, I'll go easy on you," the Hawk-voice told her, and Lise felt a length of rope, one of the many things the thief carried with him, being bound around her wrists. "No elaborate sacrifice rituals. Just a quick slit, and it will all be over, Lise, all your pain will be gone, and mine," he told her. She flinched from a wet droplet, and realized his tears were falling on her neck, as he suddenly yanked the ropes around her wrists tight.

She screamed then. She screamed as the rope cut suddenly, sharply, into her wrists with a dull, chafing burn, screamed in surprise more than pain. She screamed because suddenly, she knew was a prisoner, she knew she would die just as every other Amazon had, alone and forgotten. Behind the scream, she wanted to laugh; what a shame of a princess she was.

With the pain, with the humiliation, came darkness. It was the darkest she had ever felt, and in that darkness, she found... something. She reached for it inside her mind, it seeming so close, but then slipping away before she could latch on. Sudden, uncontrollable blind anger filled her, the desperate need to fight back.

She had thought herself trapped by his strength, but she whipped her body backwards to send him sprawling on the ground beside her. But his hands still held the end of the rope, holding her like a leash as she tried to wriggle away. She caught a momentary glimpse of his face, suddenly terrified and panicked at the prospect of losing his prize.

Lise slithered like an eel, Hawk struggling to catch the slippery girl; and Lise suddenly realized, horrified, that he was winning. She worked her left hand free, but the rope yanked even tighter on her right hand, her spear hand, and he jerked her towards him, nearly wrenching her arm out of its socket.

Part of her wanted to give up; she was losing, and she knew it. She didn't stand a chance unless… there needed to be something to tip the balance. The darkness beckoned her once again, as something just on the edge of her vision; a magic darkness she was afraid to embrace, afraid to reach for, afraid to know and understand. But she had been through darkness already.

She did not know magic; Amazons did not know magic. But there it was, nevertheless. As her arm was yanked helplessly, her mind reached for it… and this time, it found what it was looking for.

She let her body go limp; Hawk pulled her roughly to him, and forward onto her knees. Lise only smiled. He jerked her to her feet like a rag doll, and grabbed her left arm as she offered no resistance. Lise looked deep into the eyes of the man she had once called beloved, and saw him filled with fear, anger, and suffering. She could find only pity for him.

He wrapped his arms around her firmly, as if to throw her over his shoulder; clearly he thought her defeated. She gave him a minute to let that idea take hold, bracing herself, building strength inside herself; and suddenly Lise let that darkness explode out from somewhere deep inside of her.

Hawk never knew what hit him, but suddenly all his strength drained to nothing. His grip was as weak as a child's, and Lise easily pulled free, tearing the rope from her wrist scornfully. In their desperate tug-of war, they had squirmed some distance, and now, just behind her, she saw... her spear.

She reached for it like a mother for her child, and as soon as her fist closed around the haft in an intimately familiar way, she felt as if the life had flowed back into her. She knew what she was doing, and why, and turned down to the one who wanted to stop her, now cringing on the floor before the goddess of destruction she had become.

"You FUCKER!" cried Lise at the pathetic creature lying in the dirt before her.

"You do understand, don't you, Lise?" Hawk whined at her. "Either you live, or Jessica lives, not both." His face went pale, as he realized she didn't care.

Lise held her spear to Hawk's throat, the Navarrese now quivering with real fear as he saw his life slipping away only inches away from him in his reflection on that long, sharp blade. She paused for a long moment, watching the fear sink deeper into his eyes and bones, and she contemplated how sweet it would feel to have her blade slice smoothly through the tanned throat just underneath it.

She thought of the screams of the Rolantic dying in the halls of their home, the broken backs of those laboring in Navarre still. She thought of Koren gurgling his last under the panicked gaze of his young and beautiful wife. She thought of herself, her body squirming under this man where only hours before she had wrapped herself around Duran just as easily. She contemplated all the pain she had seen and endured, and all the extreme ways she could make this one man pay for it.

Abruptly she stood up, slamming the butt of her spear against the ground with decisive finality. "You're not worth it," she declared.

Relief crossed her lover's face. He moved as if to get up, but Lise dropped him down to the ground all over again with a swift kick to the balls. Her last glimpse of Hawk was him yelping like a puppy, hands cupped between his legs, as she turned away, this time east, towards the rising sun.

She did not know where she was going, but the mountains were calling to her once again. And slowly peace fell over her being, as the last Amazon disappeared into the world.

**The End**

--------------------------

**Really, that's the end? **Yup. D'ya hate me now, for not telling you what happens next?

Well, what do you think? Does she go back and look for Duran, or does she trudge through life on her own? Is Rolante lost forever, or does she find a way to bring it back? Does she forget, maybe even forgive, or go give Bigieu (and Hawk) the whupping they deserve?

Any, and all, are possible. Going back to the SD3 storyline… she could be the one to find the fairy and save the world blah blah, or she could be somewhere on the sidelines. But I've already done a novelization, and though it might be entertaining to do an AU-version of the same, I'm not sure I'm up to it. This was intended to be a open-ended piece from the start, with an ending that was intense and invigorating, without truly being "happy".

So, use your imagination to fill in the rest ;)


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